Never Saw A Miracle
by flashpenguin
Summary: Called away during Thanksgiving parade duty, daddy to be Lionel Fusco rushes to beat the Stork who is on his way to make a special holiday delivery. Dressed as a turkey and with John Reese by his side, it should be a piece of cake. But will they make it in time? Co-written by rjwritergirl. COMPLETE!


**Never Saw A Miracle**

 _Song Prompt: "Never Saw A Miracle" by Curtis Stigers_

Lionel Fusco had seen a lot in his lifetime that had made him take a different fork in the road, and even forge a path all on his own. He had seen the best in man, and the worst, too—at least that was the price of being a cop. He had found happiness, then crapped it away. Then he hit rock bottom and became a bottom-dweller. But he had crawled out of that hole and found the light at the end of the tunnel.

Okay, how was he supposed to have known that the light would be called Cocoa Puffs? But stranger things in life had happened...although, most of those strange things seemed to happen to him. What was supposed to be an undercover day at the parade with Reese, and then a quiet dinner with his wife and friends, had been abruptly changed. Now he was in a car racing down the road in a turkey costume of all things.

"Slow down, Lionel," John Reese warned from the passenger seat. "You're supposed to transport Root to the hospital; not be transported there yourself."

"Hey, this isn't my first emergency call," Lionel retorted as he skillfully maneuvered the sedan around the large truck stopped in the middle of the road. "I know what I'm doing."

"Coulda fooled me." And though he had never been a religious man, he found himself saying a prayer.

Lionel shot his friend a look. "What, Superman? You think you can do better? You want the steering wheel?"

Reese held up a hand. "No, Lionel. I'm pretty sure you have this under control," he said thru clenched teeth, and dug his nails deeper into the door handle. He had once been on board an Army transport plane that had hit a rough storm and was struck by lightning, not once but twice. Twice! And even with that terrifying experience in his book of life, it paled in comparison to the way his life was flashing before his eyes.

"Thank you."

"Although, you could have taken the turkey suit off before you got in the car," Reese suggested.

"Look, maybe your wife doesn't mind that you can be there in just the nick of time, but mine tends to know the exact moment I am arriving. I like to be on her good side—pregnant and hormonal, or not. If you catch my drift."

"Got it."

"Fourth of July...Thanksgiving..." Lionel mumbled under breath. "What is it about holidays that gets that big bird out making deliveries?"

"Boredom?"

"Heh. Wise guy. Don't think you're getting a namesake out of this when all is said and done," Lionel groused.

"Wasn't going to bet on it. Watch out!" Reese pushed himself back into the seat and mentally braced himself for impact. At the very last possible second, Lionel jerked the steering wheel to the right. The sedan's front tire went up and over the curb, then back down on to the street. The sudden bounce jarred the car violently.

"I'll be lucky if I get out of this alive," Reese muttered under his breath. "Maybe we should have Finch call an ambulance."

"I remember the last time we called an ambulance; it didn't make it in time." Lionel scanned the street. "We made it here before she made it down." Hitting the brakes hard, the car screeched to a halt. The air was permeated by the stench of burnt rubber.

Lionel jumped out of the car. "Come on!" He hurried to the front door of the building. With a stamina he didn't know he had, he sprinted up the four flights of stairs. He burst thru the door of the loft and stopped.

"What are you doing?" he demanded of the woman drying her hair with a towel.

"Drying my hair," Root replied as though it was the most normal thing to do under the circumstances.

"You're in labour!" Lionel nearly shouted, incredulous that she didn't realize the significance of the moment.

"I'm pretty sure I am aware of that, Lionel," Root replied with a knowing smile. "I just needed a shower."

"You can't take a shower! What if the baby came?!"

"It's okay."

"I hurried over here because I thought the baby was on the way. And I find you...taking a shower!"

"I couldn't exactly go to the hospital with dirty hair. And it was just a couple of contractions. My water hasn't broken."

Lionel grabbed the towel and threw it on the couch. "We don't have a moment to waste. Come on!"

"Can I at least brush my hair?" Root asked.

"No! The last time I heard the words 'it's just a couple of contractions' and 'my water hasn't broken' I was helping to deliver Wondergirl in the middle of Central Park!"

"First babies are notoriously late."

"Not true. Come on." Lionel pulled her toward the door. "No!" he stated loudly when Root headed toward the elevator. "Stairs."

"Four flights of stairs, Lionel? Seriously?" Root gave him an exasperated look. Her hand settled on the small of her back. "The elevator will be quicker."

"Dangerous. Don't you read the police reports? Elevators are the worst thing you can take in an emergency. Stairs are safer," Lionel recited the statistics.

"If you say so," Root sighed and gave in. "But if I have this baby in the stairwell..."

"She has a point, Lionel," Reese supplied.

"Thanks for having my back, Superman. Knew I could count on you." Lionel steered Root toward the double doors. He pushed the down arrow. "You'd better have a 'Plan B' if this doesn't work out."

"She's not going to let anything bad happen," Root reassured. The doors opened. "Oh, I forgot my bag."

"I'll get it," Reese offered.

"You stay with her; I'll get it. Meet you down in the lobby." As the doors closed, Lionel rushed back to the loft. He looked around for the go-bag. "Where is it? Where is it?" he asked rhetorically to the empty room. He needed that bag!

Pulling open a dresser drawer, he pulled out something, and ran from the room. Sprinting down the steps, he ran out the door to the car and threw the item inside. Hurrying over to the driver's side, he jumped in and started the engine. With his foot heavy on the gas, he pealed away from the curb.

"Yep, got this planned. Gonna get you to the hospital and tucked into a bed in a private room, then you can have the baby without any drama," Lionel announced with false bravado. "This isn't going to be like when Joss had Jessica. No, no. The Fusco has a plan and it includes obstetricians and nurses."

Just then the phone rang. Glancing down he noticed the name "ROOT" flash on the screen. "What in the...?" He answered it. "Hello?"

"Honey, did you forget something," Root asked sweetly.

Lionel's brow furrowed in confusion by the question. "Did I forget something? What do you mean...?" He glanced over at the passenger seat, then in the rearview mirror. "Son of a—!" He dropped the phone.

Without any warning, he did a U-turn in the middle of traffic. He barely heard the honking of horns and the angry shouts from other drivers as he sped back to the loft. Another U-turn, he threw the car in park. He jumped out and hurried over to the passenger door.

"Nice of you to remember us, Lionel," Reese replied tongue in cheek.

"Yeah. I got a little ahead of myself." Lionel helped Root inside the car.

"I can see."

"You just got lucky with your first. Wait until your second, then we'll talk." He ran back to the driver's side. "Alright. Second time's the charm."

"That's 'third time's a charm'," Root corrected. She tried to get comfortable on the car seat, but the dull throbbing in her back nearly made it impossible. Focusing on the spot on the windshield, she tried to count to ten and remember to breathe.

"I'm turning on the radio." The sounds of country music filled the interior as he pulled away. It wasn't exactly what Root wanted to hear, but it took her mind off of the moment. The twinges weren't bad, but they were beginning to become uncomfortable. As long as Lionel maintained his current speed, it was possible to get to the hospital before anything bad happened, she reasoned. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and tried to relax...right before she was pulled forward against the seatbelt.

"What are you doing?" she asked Lionel who was stopping the car.

"Red light."

"Red...light?" she repeated in disbelief.

"Uh huh."

The light changed and Lionel pressed the accelerator. Root reconfigured the ETA. They would still get there in time—as long as the twinge that was more than a twinge didn't grow, and as long as the car kept moving forward... she could hope.

The car came to a second stop.

"What is going on?" she asked thru clenched teeth. Now the pain was sharper and more intense.

"Red light," Lionel answered.

"It was yellow."

"Red."

"Yellow."

"A little help here, Wonderboy; red or yellow?" Lionel asked. His eyes met Reese's in the rear view mirror.

Reese sat back against the cushioned seat. "I'm staying out of this one, Lionel. Thank you."

"That's how you pay me back?"

"Yep."

"Some friend."

"Although, you might want to put a little weight on that gas pedal," Reese suggested. He wasn't sure, but his sixth sense was telling him that things were about to take a sharp turn for the worse.

"We had this discussion before; if you want the steering wheel, it's yours, buddy."

"Green light," Root piped up. The car moved forward...to another intersection. "That was a yellow light. I saw it; it was yellow!"

Lionel shrugged. "Yellow...red...same difference. The law states that you can get a ticket the same for a yellow or red light."

"You're a cop, Lionel. You are in a detective's car with lights and siren," Root pointed out. What was that pain in her back? Oooooh...

"I can't run a red light," he argued.

"Maybe you _can't_ , but you'd better. My water just broke."

"Your water what?!" Lionel and Reese chorused together.

"Broke. Sorry for soaking your seat, Lionel, but obeying the speed limit at the most inopportune time was not to your advantage."

Lionel was stupefied by the revelation. "I-I-I..."

Root reached over and grabbed a handful of Lionel's turkey suit and pulled him toward her. "Now, listen to me. I don't care what colour the light is—it can be purple for all I don't care—you _will_ run it! I don't care if there are squirrels duking it out in the middle of the street; you keep going. If you don't, I will not hesitate to have this baby in the car, you hear me?" she growled low and fierce.

Lionel nodded. "I hear you loud and clear." He was thankful for the feather covered suit that hid his shaking hands.

"She will make sure the light stays green. Now go!"

Lionel reached over and turned on the lights and siren. Pressing the gas pedal, he sped the car as fast as he dare. A couple of minutes later the hospital came into view. He could breathe a sigh of relief.

"Lionel?"

 _Uh oh! Deep breath, Lionel. Deep breath._

"What's wrong?"

"The baby is coming."

Lionel turned his head. "What do you mean?" He and Reese shared a look.

"I mean, this baby is coming. Right now." Root's fingernails dug into the dashboard. A low gutteral sound came from her throat.

"We're almost there!" Lionel argued.

"Well, the timer just went off, and this little bird is done and wanting out of the oven," Root retorted.

"One more minute!" Lionel pleaded.

"You have thirty seconds! OW!"

"Breathe!"

"Tell you what, we'll trade places and I'll tell you to breathe!" Root yelled back as a sharp contraction took hold. "I have to push!"

"Don't say that! Don't say that! We're here!" Lionel braked in front of the Emergency Room entrance and jumped out of the car. He ran over to the passenger side. "Come on!" He opened the door and extended his hands.

"I can't."

"Just take my hands."

"Lionel, I can't move! The baby is coming!" Root gasped.

Lionel looked around. "Stay with her," he barked at Reese before running into the lobby. Breathlessly he ran up to the Admin counter.

The nurse stared in surprise at the life-sized turkey standing in front of her. "May I help you, sir?"

"My wife is having a car outside with the baby," Lionel replied. Without waiting to hear the announcement over the loudspeaker, he ran back outside to help. Root was sitting up with her back against the driver's side door. Reese was doing what he could to help.

"They're coming, I think," Lionel said. "How is she?"

"Uh, having a baby!" Root piped up. "Ahhhhhh!" she yelled out. "It hurts!"

Lionel flexed his hand as the memory of Joss's labour flashed quickly in his memory. "Just breathe," he coached.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," he encouraged. He tried to remember everything from his police training and the abrupt arrival in Central Park but his mind was blank. "They're coming. Wait!"

"Tell that to the baby!" Root growled as her body bowed forward.

Lionel looked down to see a dark haired cover head. "This isn't happening," he said aloud to no one.

"It's very much happening!" Root grabbed the headrest of the driver's seat with one hand and the steering wheel with the other and braced herself as the next contraction tore her in half. "Just like our child is being delivered by two men in turkey costumes. AHHHHHH!" she screamed.

A moment later a tiny little human lay in Lionel's hands. Staring in awe, he tried to think of something to say. Then instinct kicked in.

The baby began to cry. "What is it?" Root wondered.

"A boy. Here, John. I'll get the go-bag." Lionel handed the baby over. He did a quick search but came up empty. Spying the pink material, he grabbed it. "Here."

Reese made a face when a bright pink piece of material was handed over. He wrapped the baby just as a group of hospital attendants ran out to assist.

"We'll take the baby," a nurse offered, while another took care of Root. A few miutes later, Root was helped onto a stretcher and the baby placed in a portable incubator.

"Where are you taking them?" Lionel asked.

"Just for a check-up. We'll let you know when they are ready for visitors," the nurse instructed.

Root reached out for Lionel's hand, grabbing it and holding tight. "Thank you."

Reese patted Lionel on the back. "Come on, Lionel. Let's go get cleaned up."  
*********

Balancing the vase of flowers, bunch of balloons, and the gigantic teddy bear between his two hands, Lionel slowly opened the door of the hospital room. Half expecting his wife to be asleep, he was surprised to see her sitting up in bed holding the baby.

"Lionel," Root greeted with a broad smile. "What is in your hands?"

Lionel set the flowers on the night stand. "These are for you. And these..." he nodded at the balloons "...are for the both of you. And this," he placed the bear on the chair "is for the little man."

"Thank you. Where's the team?" She looked at the door expecting familiar faces to walk thru.

"Eating Thanksgiving dinner. They'll be here later. Lee will be here tomorrow."

"Gives me time to get myself together. I know I look a mess." Root tried to run her fingers thru her hair.

"You look beautiful." He dropped a kiss on Root's lips. She still looked as though she had gone ten rounds, but he thought she was more beautiful than ever.

"How's the munchkin?" He was still in awe at the newborn angel he helped create.

"Hungry. I think he gets it from you."

"Well, at least we know he isn't going to be picky." Lionel reached over and stroked his newborn son's head. The baby grunted in response. "May I?"

"Sure." Root handed the baby over. Lionel expertly cuddled the infant in his arms as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"How you doing, sport?" he asked rhetorically.

"He can't talk, Lionel."

"I know that. We're bonding, aren't we, son?" Lionel took in the delicate features. "What are we going to name him?"

Root shrugged. "I don't know. I had girls names picked out."

"Looks like she missed that one. How about Michael?" Lionel suggested.

Root made a face. "Michael Fusco? No."

"Okay, how about Linus?"

"Linus Fusco? Really?"

"Alright, Einstein, you come up with something," he shot back.

"Lionel Reese Fusco. Lionel for his dad; Reese for the big lug who's always there to assist you."

"Uh, I'm always there to assist _him_ , sweetheart," Lionel corrected, trying not to sound offended.

"Sure you are, Lionel." The baby began to fuss. "I'll take him." Root took the baby and placed him to her breast. The baby made loud smacking noises as he drank his fill.

"Reese, yes; Lionel, no," Lionel conceded.

"Okay, what's your choice, wise guy?"

"Rebecca."

"Uh, Lionel, with all due respect, I want our son to at least be thirty before he starts robbing banks."

"I was expecting a girl, too. How about Anthony?"

"Tony Fusco? What is this, 'The Sopranos'?"

"Homer? Brandon? Jackson? Harrison?" Lionel listed off the top of his head.

"No. No. No. Maybe."

Lionel pondered for a moment before brightening. "Lucas."

"Lucas," Root repeated. "Lucas Reese Fusco." She smiled. "I like it."

"What do you say, Luke?" Lionel asked the baby. The baby grunted loudly in response. "I guess that's a go."

"Thank you, Lionel," Root whispered hoarsely. A tear broke free to run down her cheek. Lionel caught it with his thumb, brushing it away.

"For what?"

"Giving me the life I didn't know I deserved." Never in a million years would she have predicted she could be so happy. And now it was happening. It was real. And for the first time in her life, her heart overflowed with genuine love.

"Told you if you stayed with me, I'd show you a life even your computer couldn't predict," Lionel boasted.

"I think it was the other way around."

"Your way, my way...guess it's our way now." Lionel cupped her cheek. How had it turned out that the last person on earth he ever wanted to be stuck with, was the only person he wanted to be with for the rest of his life? "I love you, Cocoa Puffs."

Root smiled thru her tears. "I love you too, Lionel. Now kiss me before the team gets here."

"Your wish is my command." Lionel lowered his head.

"Uh, Lionel? Out of curiosity, where is my go bag and why was the baby wrapped in my negligee?" Root wondered.

"Heh. Long story. I'll tell you later. Happy Thanksgiving."

"The happiest," Root confirmed breathlessly before Lionel covered her lips for a sweet, loving kiss that came from his heart.

And curled up between his momma and daddy, little Lucas Reese Fusco yawned, exhausted from all the activity, and content from his first Thanksgiving meal, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

The End.

 **Happy Thanksgiving.**


End file.
